Sinners of Magic (9 page)

She’s got a
nerve,
thought Alfie with a huff,
especially after the performance she’s just
given.

‘
Well no, not
exactly,’ Tremlon replied, looking sly.

Crystal cast her gaze back
towards the elf and he nodded to a chair for it was clear he needed
to sit down when his legs buckled underneath him. Tremlon’s
movements were surprisingly swift, but he sat heavily on the
cushioned seat, his sharp eyes searching for the nearest exit.

He heard Crystal speak and a
question he had not been expecting reached him as quick as rainfall
on a cloudy day.

‘
Are you here
to tell me that I am like you?’ she asked, feeling slightly
foolish.

He sounded wistful when he
replied.

‘
So, you
fancy being an elf do you?’ he asked, with a hint of amusement
trailing through his voice. As he spoke he rubbed his neck where
angry, red welts were forming, a reminder of what she was actually
capable of.

‘
Oh, an elf!
Is that what you are?’ Crystal declared, her eyes widening. ‘I have
spoken to Gzhel, a wandering water spirit, and she told me I could
be from another place.’

A tense silence fell between
them.

‘
Yes,
alright, it’s true, you belong to the extraordinary world,’ Tremlon
admitted, throwing her a wary look, ‘but your origin is not so well
defined as mine.’

Crystal shifted from one foot
to the other.

‘
You’re not
making any sense,’ she said, clearly unsettled. Frozen by the chill
in her eyes, Tremlon knew he could only bend the truth a
little.

‘
We have been
watching you for some time,’ he told her, sitting back in his
chair. ‘We already know you called Gzhel, the spirit of the lake,
which is how we were alerted to where you were and the fact that
you were using old and forbidden magic. You see, we were never sure
what powers you would possess, nor indeed if you would ever inherit
any natural Elvin tendencies with having Oakwood blood flowing
through your veins.’

Crystal held up her hand,
signalling for him to stop.

‘
What, you
knew of my existence already?’ she blurted, feeling her breath
leave her body. He heard coldness seeping into her voice and he
appeared to struggle with his conscience before being able to carry
on.

‘
I think you
had better sit down,’ he said, patting the seat next to
him.

Crystal hesitated. Her mind was
racing ahead and thoughts of who she might be leapt around her
brain like an opened sack of jumping beans. She dragged her gaze
towards him and eventually obeyed. Clearing her dry throat, she
said, ‘I think you had better tell me what’s going on.’

‘
I can tell
you only what I know,’ Tremlon answered, clasping his small hands
together and trying hard not to stare. His face turned serious and
sadness shot from behind his eyes.

‘
Your
beginning was a terrible time for all of us,’ he said, finally,
unable to turn his face away.

Nobody heard the delicate
footsteps that echoed down the empty corridor. No one heard them
edge their way closer. Matt and Alfie had pulled up a chair,
forming a small semicircle, with Tremlon placed at the centre. One
by one they each became engrossed in what Tremlon was saying.

‘
Hello guys!’
came a cheery voice, startling them all. ‘What are you doing hiding
down here?’

Taken by surprise, Crystal spun
round in her chair. Tremlon’s eyes grew wide at the intrusion,
instantly transmuting back into a dove. He flapped his wings,
taking flight before Crystal had a chance to pin him down again,
and he flew to the safety of the rafters, hiding along the wooden
beams.

Crystal gasped, screwing her
eyes up to try to catch a glimpse of him, but he was nowhere to be
seen. Fury filled her heart and, consumed with anger, Crystal
turned on the intruder. Her rage fell on her victim like boiling
water poured over an unsuspecting ant.

‘
You stupid,
stupid idiot!’ she cried. ‘Have you any idea what you’ve just
done!’

‘
Err, I’m
really sorry,’ said a trembling voice. ‘I didn’t realise I was
interrupting anything important.’

Matt jumped out of his seat and
viewed the young girl standing before him with angry eyes.

‘
She’s my
sister!’ he revealed, showing obvious contempt. ‘Camilla, what the
hell are you doing here?’

‘
Why? What’s
the big deal,’ his sister replied, suddenly pouting like a spoilt
child. Her large, brown eyes locked onto his when she added, ‘I
didn’t realise it was against the law to come and find my
brother.’

‘
But you
never come here,’ Matt insisted, grinding his teeth. ‘Why choose
today of all days to change a habit of a lifetime?’

Camilla bit her lip and looked
sulkily at the floor.

Exasperated, Crystal bolted
forward, pushing the girl aside, and it was Alfie who reached out
and grabbed her. Her face was shiny with tears and she paused,
mid-step, at his touch.

‘
Oh, what
does it all matter?’ she muttered, trying to make light of the
heartbreak she was feeling inside. ‘Tremlon’s probably gone for
good and so I’ll never know the truth now.’ Alfie stared at her
with his sad, puppy dog eyes but Crystal’s head was so scrambled
with damning revelations that she didn’t see the pity welling
inside them.

Her exposure was no real
surprise to her; in fact it was nothing more than an unexpected
confirmation of what she had always known. It was a secret she had
held at arm’s length, the whisper she had kept silent for so long.
The skin around her beautiful blue eyes tightened just a little
whilst she accepted who she might be. In reality though, who was
she? Was she different because of her father? The father she had
never met, the man who had died before she was born? Was he the one
from this other world, an Elvin creature like Tremlon? She had been
so close to a major discovery about herself, but now any chance of
finding her real identity was shattered. She brushed Alfie’s hand
away and, without looking back, walked from the library and into
the arms of a torrential downpour.

Matt watched her leave. He
wanted to rush after her and tell her it would all work out, but he
didn’t know that for sure and he realised she probably needed time
alone.

‘
I really
feel for her,’ he said, raking his fingers through his dark hair,
‘she’s in a place we don’t even know exists.’ He turned towards his
fourteen-year-old sister, a look of disdain glowing inside his
eyes. ‘I could quite easily murder you right now,’ he said, finally
allowing his anger to escape.

‘
What did I
do?’ Camilla wailed, clearly unaware of the dilemma she’d just
caused.

‘
You followed
me here!’ Matt snapped, pointing an accusing finger. ‘And to think,
you’ve never read a book in your life!’

‘
Dad told me
where you’d gone actually,’ she blurted, sounding a little hurt.
‘All I wanted was someone to hang out with.’

Matt bit his lip when he caught
her wretched expression.

‘
It’s time we
left,’ he said, dropping his gaze. ‘You’ve done more than enough
damage for one day.’ He marched off down the corridor, with Alfie
close at his heels.

‘
Wait!’ she
begged, dashing after him. ‘Please don’t leave me in this horrible
place all by myself.’

High above the rafters, hidden
from view, Tremlon watched them leave with a quiet mind and a
calmer spirit. The king had given him so many responsibilities and
there were too many plans to keep secret. He would return to the
king and inform him of his first meeting with the princess. She had
been so very clever, this young, intelligent, almost magisterial
creature, using a natural source of sorcery known only to the
antiquated bards who had not existed for thousands of years. He
spread his wings, grateful to be able to return to his own kind in
one piece and as he vanished, he wondered, not for the first time,
if King Gamada actually realised he was playing with fire.

Chapter
4

It was nearly a week before
Matt managed to see Crystal again. He’d visited the library every
day since the episode with Tremlon and his sister, but each time he
was disappointed to find there was no sign of her anywhere. Alfie
tagged along a couple of times but, finding it boring, eventually
produced a feeble excuse so as not to have to go back again.

Matt stood alone outside the
solid structure of the central library. His eyes swept over the
large square stones holding this remarkable building together and
he was impressed by what he saw. Above the door sat a sombre
plaque, both weatherworn and showing signs of age, explaining it
had been built in 1801. The huge clock dominating the centre of the
building chimed a deep, bellowing welcome.

Whilst he was studying the
impressive architecture, the sky was suddenly hijacked by a flock
of pigeons and small, brown birds. Dropping from high above, they
swooped to earth, landing on the verges and soft green lawns of the
grounds, close to where Matt stood. Their small beady eyes fell on
the rich, dark soil in search of small insects and anything
remotely edible. Hungrily, they pecked at leftover crumbs and stale
crusts dropped by fleeting visitors over the lunchtime period who
were in a rush to fill their empty bellies.

Matt kept a watchful eye,
searching for a glimpse of the white dove with the black mark on
its wing, but once the ground was clear of every crumb, the birds
moved on and so did he. With purpose, he climbed the grey stone
steps that led him to the mouth of the library. Swinging the
gigantic double door that led into the main hall, he felt its sheer
immensity fill him with an overwhelming feeling of insignificance.
It had taken him more than a little time to appreciate just how
awesome this place really was, but he had gotten there. The
perfectly smooth walls were solid, with strong oak beams placed
high in the painted ceilings, creaking and groaning a long tune of
eeriness whenever anyone dared to enter.

Matt approached the heart of
the library and his pace slowed when he reached the section of
books clearly marked ‘W’. He glanced at the famous names written in
black and gold, embossed with a firm indent on the spine of each
book. Williams, Wodehouse and Wordsworth. None of the authors’
names meant anything to him, yet he knew they should and a stab of
ignorance twisted in his gut.

He reached out and grabbed a
book, trying to show a spark of interest. He flicked through the
musty pages, unable to focus on the words with his mind being
someplace else. Regretting his lack of concentration, he replaced
the volume back onto the shelf. He tried again, the tip of his
finger moving towards a light, silver binding and he pulled at the
spine, but then a sudden movement behind him made him let go. He
spun on his heels, his nerves taut with expectancy, but he soon
felt foolish when he discovered there was nothing behind him except
innocent, fleeting shadows. His breathing was heavy and the small
hairs on the back of his neck stood up like soldiers waiting to be
inspected. He realised his imagination was running wild and he took
a deep breath to calm himself.

‘
Who’s
there?’ he called out, suddenly convinced he wasn’t alone. His eyes
moved in search of what made him uneasy, but nothing but silence
answered his call. The acute sense of isolation surrounded him,
making him aware of his own vulnerability, and he called out once
again, his voice sounding on edge.

‘
Be quiet
boy!’ a shrill voice commanded. ‘This is a library, not a playing
field.’

He recognised the voice as
belonging to the librarian and he let out a sigh of relief. He
peered out into the gloom, but it was clear the librarian was well
out of sight.

‘
I’m outta
here,’ he mumbled under his breath, still feeling foolish. ‘There’s
nothing here for me but trouble.’ He pursed his lips and started to
whistle to give himself courage, but then an elderly man with his
ageing wife came into view and Matt let the tune die in his throat.
He headed for the bright green signboard that pointed to the exit
and, stuffing his hands into the sanctuary of his pockets, he
thought about where he could go to kill the rest of the
day.

‘
Were you
trying to grab my attention?’ asked a familiar voice. He recognised
it immediately and his mouth broke into a broad grin when he saw
Crystal appear from behind one of the huge, white
pillars.

‘
Hey, fancy
finding you here,’ he said, genuinely pleased to see her. He
accepted the welcome of her smile, but he thought she looked tired
and a little drawn around the eyes.

He watched her move to a small
writing desk, hidden between two marble columns. A table light
throbbed above her head, making her hair glow like fire. Matt
stared at her for a moment too long before he spoke, afraid if he
said the wrong thing she would disappear again. She was hurting, he
could sense it, and he didn’t want to upset her by opening his
stupid mouth and saying the wrong thing.

‘
I’m sorry
about what happened the other day,’ he said, trying to strike up a
conversation. ‘I know how important it was for you to speak to that
bird-thing.’

Crystal was reading a book and
ignoring him.

‘
So, what
have you been doing with yourself?’ he persisted, changing tactics,
‘have you been up to much?’ Her eyes glanced up from the page but
she appeared to look straight through him.